


Of rodent emotions

by Dustbinflowers



Category: Fargo (TV)
Genre: M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:55:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26671762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dustbinflowers/pseuds/Dustbinflowers
Summary: Post-job wind down
Relationships: Mr. Numbers/Mr. Wrench (Fargo)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	Of rodent emotions

**Author's Note:**

> This directly follows on from my previous piece Histories, but can be read alone I guess. I've posted it separately as I may do more on Histories at some stage.  
> This is possibly the most goddamn explicit thing I have ever written, but maybe also the most romantic. I am not romantic, but I am a sucker for these guys...

They’d got in late, after a slow drive in wet near freezing weather. Heavy traffic and shitty visibility. Numbers felt like his eyes were on stalks by the time they got back to town. Grabbing beer from a store on the way, Wrench had decided they were going back to Number’s place.

_My place is a shit-hole_ said Wrench, _I like hanging out at your place._

The two of them lounged around on the couch, drinking and talking shit and generally decompressing after the job. Numbers put some music as background. Every now and then he tapped his fingers to a beat as they talked and drank beer.

_So what about that guy?_ Numbers signed, slouched back into the couch corner.

Wrench, sprawled out at the other end, legs out and feet bare, snorted. He jammed the beer bottle between his legs and raised his hands, grinning.

_Mr Piss Pants? He was fucking scared of you!_

Numbers rolled his eyes. _You were right behind me. I couldn’t see what you were signing at him._

Wrench put on the ferocious scowl that seemed to be his default expression out in the world. Numbers had noticed how people reacted to him when he walked into a room- he guessed it saved a lot of small talk. As he watched him Wrench glared and slowly drew his finger across his neck. The meaning was unmistakable, and Wrench did look scary. Numbers threw his head back, laughing at the dramatics.

“Ah Fuck!” he said, wiping tears away, then signing _His face was amazing! I have never seen someone turn white, like in books._

Wrench dropped his fearsome act and grinned, leant his head back on the couch

_You were scary too_ he answered _You do that crazy smile. Like a psycho._

Numbers put on his best shark smile, the one that showed too many teeth, that didn’t go up to his eyes. He’d been cultivating it for years, originally for facing down others during his teen years, for showing bravado when he didn’t feel it and would be ripped apart if he showed weakness.

At the other end of the couch Wrench smiled and nodded at him. He took a long gulp from his beer, signed still holding the bottle. _Angry squirrel_

Numbers didn’t get the second word right away. He figured it halfway through his gulp of beer and just about spat it out.

“Hey! Fuck you!” he said, glaring.

Wrench fell back on the couch laughing. No, fucking giggling. He pointed at Numbers, gesturing to his pissed expression, and laughed harder, shaking his head helplessly.

It was pretty hard to not laugh too. Numbers grinned back at Wrench and flipped him the bird, then reached for another couple of beers. He stretched out his right foot and kicked him in the hip, not too hard.

“Fuck you cocksucker” he said, and passed him a bottle.

It was late and they were out of beer. They were both yawning. It had been a long day.

Numbers stood up to grab a pillow and blanket for Wrench. Wrench stood up too.

_No,_ he signed adamantly, _your couch sucks. I’m not sleeping on it again._

_What, you want me to?_ demanded Numbers.

Wrench smirked. _You sleep on the couch if you want, there is room in the bed for both of us._

Numbers snorted and met those green eyes. He replied without thinking. _You know how that will end, don’t you?_

They looked at each other for a long moment, both aware of the last few days on the job; the banter, the weight of their history, and the uncommented on but undeniable chemistry between them. Wrench finally brought his hands up, his fingers crossed. Then knocked. _Yes_. He grinned.

Numbers snorted again. He was drunk enough to feel brave, to not think about the fact that the thing he’d desperately wanted fifteen years ago was probably about to happen. He stepped forwards, into Wrench’s space, grabbed his shirt and lifted his face to kiss him.

When they pulled away from the kiss they were both breathing deeply.

_Well, take me to bed._ demanded Wrench. Numbers twisted the shirt in his hand and towed Wrench after him.

Next to the bed they kissed again. Wrench slid his hands around Number’s hips, rubbed his thumb across the band of bare skin above his underwear. Then he paused, withdrew his hands. Numbers opened his eyes.

_What is ok?_ Wrench asked _What do I need to know?_

Numbers breathed out, until then not aware he'd been holding his breath.

_I like most stuff._ he signed _Front and ass. Just don’t call it my pussy, and do call it my dick._ He smirked. _What about you?_

Wrench shrugged and smiled back. _I like fucking. Sometimes I like being fucked. Whatever feels good. Call any of it what you want._

They looked at each other for a long awkward moment, then Wrench gave a low growl and pulled Numbers to him. He mouthed Number’s neck, his lips hot. His hands slid back around, fingers sliding along his waistband, pushing under to grab at his ass. 

Ah fuck. Numbers groaned, and twisted to kiss him, tongue and teeth. He slid his hands under Wrench’s t shirt, feeling the hot smooth skin of his stomach, located his belt buckle and began ineffectually pulling at it. After a moment, still kissing his neck, Wrench huffed through his nostrils and pushed Number’s hands away, undid the buckle in a smooth jerk, unbuttoned his jeans.

_You horny_ he signed against his stomach, in Number’s line of sight.

Numbers looked up at him and grinned, ran his hand down the front of Wrench’s jeans. Felt exciting firmness.

“Yep” he said aloud. He squeezed, and had the satisfaction of seeing Wrench’s expression go slack, his eyes half close and cloud over.

Still handling him through his jeans, Numbers used his other hand to pull everything down a little. He pushed his t shirt up, and Wrench took the hint, pulled it off. Bending his head, he felt Wrench’s inward breath as he licked, then sucked his nipple. He shoved Wrench’s jeans further down, found his dick and freed it from underwear. It jutted out at him. Numbers knelt. This was something he was good at.

Within a few moments his mouth was full and Wrench’s hands were in his hair. Numbers swirled his tongue over the head of his dick, tasting salt and musk. He strained his eyes upwards. Was rewarded with the sight of Wrench gazing down, mouth a little open, eyes glazed. Numbers swirled his tongue again, then sucked hard, reached to stroke his balls and felt Wrench’s fingers tighten in his hair. After what felt like only a minute more Wrench pulled him up. He kissed him hungrily, then pulled back so that Numbers could see his hands.

_Don’t want to come yet. Too good._ His cheeks were flushed like he was in a hot room.

_That's the point._ answered Numbers.

Wrench grinned, and holding him around the hips, chucked him on the bed, jumping after him as he yelled in surprise, bouncing on the mattress.

Straddling him, knees either side of his thighs, Wrench leant forward, kissed him. This time it was slow, an exploration of lips, tongue, teeth. Numbers was breathless in moments, hyper-aware of the other’s hands either side of his head, of the length of his big warm body above him, barely touching his.

“Fuck.” he said when they pulled apart a moment.

Wrench smirked down at him and raised a hand to wave it in Number’s face. _Soon. Impatient squirrel._

Numbers flipped him off about two inches from his face, squirming ineffectually. Wrench grabbed his hand and pinned it down on the bed. He leant down to kiss him hard for a second. Then softer. Gently bit Number's bottom lip, nuzzled at his beard. Then his warm breath was on Number’s throat, behind his ear. Numbers groaned, forgot about protesting Wrench's new nickname for him. He lifted his left hand and slid his thumb over Wrench’s nipple, felt him shiver and saw the goosebumps raise the copper hair on his upper arm. Wrench bit his jaw gently, then leaned back on his knees.

_You. Too many clothes._ he signed.

Numbers began undoing the buttons of his shirt. His fingers felt clumsy. As he got to the bottom buttons Wrench took his hips in his hands, his thumbs rubbing over the jutting bones. Numbers got the last button undone and undid his belt buckle, unzipped and shoved at his pants almost frantically. Wrench pulled and Numbers wriggled, feeling the chill as his skin was exposed. He shivered and sat up, awkwardly pulling his arms out of his shirt.

Wrench knelt over him again, green eyes intense. He lowered his body length against Numbers, his skin hot against him. Numbers kissed him, impatient, his hands running down to grab at his ass. Wrench shuffled backwards down the bed. He took Number’s left nipple, the one with the barbell, gently in his teeth a second, and Numbers felt it in his guts with an intensity which made his breath hitch.

Wrench brought his hands up, making eye contact again. _I want to taste you._

Numbers was mortified at the whimper that escaped him. That twist in the guts again, and Wrench shuffling down the bed, breath hot on his chest, his stomach; lips and tongue across the scars and tattoos and hair. He swung his leg off the side of the bed, half standing for a second to reposition one knee between Number’s ankles. Numbers closed his eyes, his head going back as Wrench lowered his face to his groin.

His mouth felt impossibly hot on his dick. His fingers slid over his thighs, explored and found his wet folds, rubbed gently at his hole, slid back to his asshole. His tongue swirled and Numbers felt his hips jerk, ground upwards into his mouth. Wrench made a low growling sound and grabbed his ass. He pulled him up to his mouth, and began sucking hard. Numbers was reduced to incoherency. His back arched as Wrench’s hands explored, his thumb pushing into him, a finger rubbing at his asshole, slowly pushing in.

As Wrench fingered him, his head bobbing on his dick, his orgasm hit him like an electric shock. Sudden, short and sharp, leaving him gasping as the waves went through him.

Panting, he bent forwards to curl around Wrench’s head, his dick suddenly too sensitive. Wrench looked up. His mouth and chin were wet. Smiling, he slid up the bed beside him and kissed him.

_Condoms?_ He asked.

Numbers reached over to his bedside table, opened the drawer and located a couple of condoms by feel, and the bottle of lube. He passed them over and watched as Wrench rolled one on, gave an experimental pump to make sure everything was sitting right, then slathered a squirt of lube over everything.

_Fuck me_ signed Numbers. Wrench rolled so that he was lying on his back.

_You fuck me_ he answered, and pulled him onto him.

Kneeling, Numbers rocked forwards to kiss him, tasting himself. He rocked back, felt Wrench’s dick bump against the back of his thigh. Lined it up and slid back through his slick. It hit his dick and they both groaned. Numbers rose up, and slowly took him in. Wrench was big. Filled with him, Numbers could not sit right down.

_Gentle_ he signed _You are big._

He was almost panting at the sensation. Wrench nodded, eyes gone dark, cheeks pink. For a long moment Numbers was still, adjusting to Wrench inside him. He rose on his knees and Wrench exhaled, his back arching at the sensation. He looked up at him with his intense gaze. His fingers rested on Number’s hips. Numbers moved. It wasn’t long before their slow smooth rhythm sped up, before Wrench’s hands were digging into Number’s thighs. Only a few more strokes before he began to grunt as he thrust, before Numbers was leaning forward, panting into Wrench’s shoulder.

Wrench grabbed Number’s ass, pulling him against him, and he came with what was the loudest sound Numbers had heard him make, a guttural “Uhh!” that made everything contract inside.

They stilled, both breathing hard. Numbers could feel the strong thud of Wrench’s heart. His own pounded in his ears. He lifted himself and half fell sideways onto the bed. Wrench sighed. He looked wrecked.

_I’ll be right back_ Numbers signed, and slid off the bed.

He scooped up his discarded boxers out of the mess of clothing on the floor and made his way to the bathroom on shaky legs.

Sitting on the toilet he took deep breaths. Calm down. His lungs and eyes burned. Fuck, that had been intense. He stood up, flushed, washed his hands, stared at himself in the mirror. He looked wreaked- eyes bloodshot, pupils massive, hair in all directions, mouth swollen, neck and chest mottled red. Splashing cold water on his face instantly made him feel better.

A cigarette. That was what he needed.

He left the bathroom and went into the lounge, finding his cigarettes next to the couch. Retreating back to the bathroom he switched the extractor fan on and lit up, leaning against the slightly open window.

He was halfway down the cigarette when Wrench came in hesitantly. He gestured to the toilet, his face questioning, and Numbers shrugged.

Wrench pissed, flushed and washed his hands. He came over to the window where Numbers leaned, gestured towards the cigarette. Numbers passed it to him and he took a long drag, held it for a long moment, then exhaled. He handed it back to Numbers.

_Damn, they are still good._

He glanced at Numbers, slouching against the window

_You ok?_

Numbers nodded. Picked up the cigarette packet and offered it.

_You want?_

Wrench shook his head

_Not starting again_ he answered. Yawned. _Going to bed._

He headed towards the door, inclined his head in an invitation as he went. _Coming?_ Numbers nodded, gestured to the remaining cigarette.

Leaning against the window ledge he slowly smoked the cigarette to the filter. Listened to the roar of the fan, watched the smoke get sucked out of the room.

When he was done he flushed the butt down the toilet and brushed his teeth. Didn’t look at himself in the mirror.

He padded back to the bedroom. Wrench had crawled under the duvet and was close to asleep. Numbers jumped into the bed unnecessarily violently, and poked Wrench in the ribs. Wrench slapped at him, frowning, then rolled to put his arm around him. Grimacing, Numbers put up with the cuddling for a few minutes.

Once Wrench began snoring he wormed out from under his arm, away from his radiating heat to roll onto his side.

Waking in pre-dawn dark, just the half light from the lamp on out by the couch, Numbers stretched. Beside him, Wrench was a warm, still presence, breathing slow. Numbers rolled in to him and put his arm over his hip. He couldn’t remember the last time he had woken up with anyone else in the bed- usually it was a case of hookup and get out. The minimum of kissing, foreplay even. Definitely no cuddling. This was not just anyone though. This was his long lost best friend. Who was now his work partner.

Under his arm Wrench stirred. Numbers nuzzled his shoulder blade and felt him wake. He was still a long moment, then he rolled over to face him. His face was creased from sleep, hair wild. Numbers thought he had never seen someone look sexier.


End file.
